Drowning
by ToryTigress92
Summary: She was just there for a holiday and a good time. But a chance encounter in a night club might just change her life, and his, forever. But is ten days really enough for romance to blossom? Darcy never thought so, until she met him. Magnus Martinsson. Short six chapter story, silly, sexy, fluffy fun. Set post Thor, pre Avengers, and post Series 2 of Wallander.
1. Chapter 1

Drowning

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Warnings: Explicit content, some mild language & descriptions of violence.

* * *

'_I think I'm drowning,asphyxiated,_

_I wanna break this spell that you've created.'_

'_You're something beautiful,_

_a contradiction._

_I wanna play the game,_

_I want the friction.'_

_**- 'Time Is Running Out', Muse**_

* * *

She should have stayed in the desert, and that was saying something.

As the same drunk ass tried to feel her up for the tenth time as she stood at the bar, she gathered the threads of her patience, and aimed a surreptitious elbow backwards. It collided with soft flesh, and Darcy was momentarily satisfied by the sound of a douche bag in pain.

For the third time, she signalled to the barman, but he was oblivious, talking to a pretty blonde girl with too much makeup and not enough clothing. Seriously, that much open cleavage on a girl was just tacky.

Heavy bass music pounded in Darcy's ears, as she tossed a brunette curl over one shoulder, glancing up and back towards where she had left her friend, canoodling with _le lover_ boy.

After the hell in Puente Antiguo, Darcy didn't know if she was relieved or reluctant to go back to school. She had finished her internship, bade Jane and Erik goodbye, and now she was there, in a night club in Ystad, playing the fifth wheel. Or third. Whatever.

At least it was pretty, with its medieval architecture and the sea. The town not the night club.

Come visit me, Anna had said. Come over and we'll spend a few weeks getting drunk. At least Anna was paying for the whole thing, so Darcy didn't need to worry about her scrawny savings.

Tuition loans were a bitch.

She supposed she couldn't really hold it against Anna, not when her boyfriend _**was**_ fiendishly hot. Fiendishly hot and only back in Sweden for a few days before he was off to Africa on some volunteer thing. It wasn't their fault Darcy was going through a major dry spell, and they weren't. The guys at school were just so….so….boring.

As it was, Anna was the one getting some, and she was stuck standing at the bar, jostling for a drink and getting felt up by moronic drunks.

She should have stayed in the desert. At least there, there was a chance of tasering some hot, buff alien from another world, who was the truth behind Norse myths.

Oh well. No use crying over spilt milk as Granny used to say.

Eventually the bar tender stopped ogling the blonde, and spotted Darcy's waving hand. "Finally," she huffed. "Sprechen sie English?"

No, wait. That was German. Damn it, she had bought a Swedish phrase book before she came out here.

After a few seconds of useless memory flicking, and an annoyed barman, Darcy gave up and just pointed to the bottle of alcohol she wanted.

Brain, you fail.

With a smile and a Euro note, which cheered him up, Darcy escaped with her drink. Or tried to.

She stepped back, into something tall, hard and lean, spilling her vodka everywhere, including all over her dress. Damn it, it had been the best thing she owned!

"Do you mind? Or couldn't you get enough of my elbow, you sick, perverted, sonofabi-" she spat furiously, spinning around but it wasn't her stalker friend behind her.

There was only one word to describe the guy standing behind her. Hot, with a capital 'H'.

He had to be at least 6'3, with wildly curling blonde hair, cheekbones sharp enough to cut paper, and piercing, intense blue eyes that looked like they actually burned. Now she'd read stuff like _'Fifty Shades'_ and_ 'Twilight'_ out of some kind of morbid curiosity, and spent a great deal of time sniggering every time the authors called the male protagonist's eyes 'burning'. Damn, she didn't realise they could actually burn in real life.

Her eyes dropped to his body, tall lean but not rail thin, muscular and graceful in loose jeans, a striped sweater and black blazer. Her gaze trailed down his long athletic legs and her mouth started to water.

He muttered something in Swedish, and her eyes snapped back up to his, recalling the damp feeling on her chest and the fact this jerk had been right behind her.

"Say what?" she asked, brow furrowed. She was already a bit tipsy, and her Swedish was basic at the best of times.

"English?" he asked, again. This time, she noticed his voice was like velvet, husky and smooth. Damn. "Look, I'm sorry. I didn't see you there."

"Yeah, no kidding," Darcy grumbled, holding her now empty vodka glass up. Great, she had to spill her drink, bump into some hot Swedish, bilingual guy, and ruin her best dress.

"Well, you did step backwards without looking in a crowded nightclub. And my toe is now complaining quite loudly," he retorted, with a sharp glare.

"Well, you made me spill my drink. So I guess that makes us even," she snapped back, pointing to her glass.

"How about I buy you another to make up for it?" he asked, with a sweet smile that really annoyed Darcy. He got the impression he was mocking her, and if he wasn't….she was so not going there, sexy blonde dude or not.

"Hell…" she began, glancing over towards Anna and her boyfriend, but the pair were so…well engrossed in each other, she really didn't fancy sitting beside them. Ever. And he was offering her free booze, and if he got too handsy, she could just taser him. "On second thoughts, damn straight you can."

"As the lady wishes," he chuckled, and that laugh, silky and low, melted Darcy's annoyance away like smoke. Damn it, girl! Where'd her backbone disappear to? He held out his hand. "Magnus Martinsson."

"Darcy Lewis," she shook it back, summoning up her best smile.

* * *

They got their own table, up on the balcony overlooking the dance floor. Darcy had sent a text Anna's way, so she wouldn't worry. She seriously doubted she even noticed.

"So, you clearly not from around here," her companion began, sipping his beer. "Where are you from, Darcy?"

"No shit Sherlock," she sighed, with a teasing grin. He just smirked. "US. I'm over here visiting a friend."

"Oh, the girl with the glue stuck to her lips," Magnus nodded sympathetically. Darcy nearly spat her drink out. He eyed her wickedly, that infuriatingly hot smirk back on his face.

"Shut up," she muttered, looking away, toying with her glass. He chuckled once, and then followed her gaze, towards the hordes of dancing students and customers.

"You at University, Darcy?" he asked, taking another swig of beer. An amber droplet lingered at one corner, and Darcy had to fight the urge to lick it away. What the hell?

"Yep."

"What are you studying?" he asked, seeming genuinely curious. Darcy sardonically smiled; sure this would drive him off. It usually did with guys.

"Political Science. Just finished, actually."

"Oh, really? So do I see a future President before me, or are you just doing it for laughs?" he asked, leaning back in his seat. Inwardly stunned, Darcy laughed and tossed her hair back.

"Don't tease. I'd be a kickass President," she retorted. "So, what do you do?"

"I'm a police officer, a detective," he replied.

"So when I called you Sherlock, it wasn't far from the truth? Awesome!" she punched the air. He laughed at her exuberance.

"Well, technically Sherlock wasn't a police officer," he pointed out.

"I can just see you in the deerstalker," Darcy continued, teasingly. Magnus chuckled, swigging back the last of his beer.

"Now now, don't take the piss," he replied.

"Well, don't be pedantic," she retorted, throwing back the last of her vodka and relishing the burn down her throat. It made her confident, and made her forget all the reasons why she wasn't getting involved with anyone at the moment. "And I wasn't. You'd look sexy with the deerstalker and the pipe."

"Sexy, huh?" he actually freaking _**purred**_, and the sound shot straight to Darcy's head, like really strong alcohol. "So you think I'm sexy?"

"Nah, dude. Only with the deerstalker," she smirked, hiding her arousal. It didn't seem to faze him, as that sly grin only widened.

"Damn. There goes my chance," he sighed mournfully, and she laughed. Was it her, or was it getting hot?

"If you come out with a cheesy pick up line, I'm outta here," Darcy retorted. Magnus raised an eyebrow mock-suggestively.

"So if I told you to grab your coat…" he trailed off, and she rolled her eyes.

"I'd say back off or I'll taser your ass," she replied nonchalantly.

"Duly noted," he muttered wryly. "Wait, how did you get a taser through customs?"

Darcy's smile turned sly. "I have my ways."

He laughed at that. "Sexy and devious," he murmured, his voice dropping a timbre or two, sending shivers down Darcy's spine as he met her gaze challengingly. "I really have no chance."

"Ha, ha," Darcy did her best impression of a 'bad guy' laugh. She'd been watching too many comic book movies. "My evil plan has come to fruition."

Magnus shot a confused glance at her, before he collapsed into laughter. Darcy rolled her eyes, waiting for him to stop, to get up and run away as quickly as possible without looking rude, but he didn't. He just laughed.

Eventually Darcy gave in too, giggling more than a little bit drunkenly. As she eyed the drop-dead gorgeous detective, she thought what the hell, why not? Anna wasn't going to be the only one scoring tonight…

As a new song came on, she stood up, holding out her hand commandingly. Magnus stopped, eying her hand, then her questioningly. "Come on. I love this song," she murmured. "We are in a night club, Sherlock."

"That we are," he grinned, standing up from his seat and taking her hand. "I must warn you though, I have two left feet."

* * *

Two left feet, her ass.

Three minutes after they made it onto the crowded dance floor, Darcy was quite certain that Magnus was many things, but rhythm deficient was not one of them.

His arms had loosely slung around her waist, keeping her close in the crush. She wished she had worn something more substantial than a dress now, before she could feel every hard muscle and bone in Magnus's body against her own.

Their bodies moved in a kind of aching synchronicity, their hips shifting against one another in time to the beat, his eyes doing that smouldering thing again. The temptation to lift herself up on her tiptoes and kiss the life out of him was growing stronger by the minute.

From the devilish glint in his eye, he knew it too.

Deciding to get her own back, Darcy slipped around in his arms, so her back slotted against his chest, and she gently gyrated her hips against his. At his sharp intake of breath against her ear, she laughed.

He soon got his own back. His lips just brushed her ear, interrupting her self-congratulation, and slid down, teasingly following the curve of her neck. At the same time, his hand splayed over her abdomen, and pressed against the taut skin, so with every move of their hips, their bodies rocked together tightly, and his hand shifted in a teasing caress on her stomach.

Damn, he was good.

It was like playing with fire, but it felt so good. The next time he rocked their bodies together, she let her head fall back, turning so her mouth ghosted against his neck, exposed by the sweater he wore. She grazed his skin with her teeth, and felt his shudder with a triumphant smile.

Magnus 2, Darcy 3.

It didn't even occur to her to be careful. She was in a strange city, in a foreign country, with no backup if things went wrong, and he was a stranger. A sexy, snarky, stranger.

And dangerous. Oh yeah, talk about stranger danger.

As the song ended and blurred into the next one, Darcy sighed. She should really be heading back to her hotel, since Anna seemed to have abandoned her.

"I'd better go," she called over the din. "I have to be up early tomorrow."

Anna was taking her out into the countryside, to show her the lakes. Magnus nodded, a slightly crestfallen expression in his baby-blue eyes, blonde curls dishevelled.

"At least let me see you back to your hotel," he suggested. She told him the address, and he nodded. "It's on my way home anyway."

Despite the fact she had said she needed to leave, neither made a move to separate. Darcy's hedonistic side was screaming at the thought, and she wanted nothing more than to stay there in his arms.

With a mischievous smirk, she leant back in his arms and met his questioning gaze. "Two left feet my ass."

He smirked and looked away, his fingers gently caressing her stomach through the thin material of her dress, before he let her go with a sigh.

Wordlessly they collected their coats from the cloakroom, and Darcy restrained a feminist diatribe when he helped her put her coat on. She was torn between feminist outrage and squealing like a schoolgirl anyway, so it would have sounded pretty weak.

* * *

Outside, the night was cool and crisp, as they emerged outside onto the square, where people milled around in the bars and clubs. The restaurants were long closed.

As they walked, they talked more, Darcy's hand on Magnus's arm. He asked about her degree, she about his work as a detective.

They talked about music and films, about silly little things that made Darcy happy. Nothing too heavy or serious.

Alcohol always made Darcy go a little silly. The wide, star-filled sky above her head filled her with an innocent kind of joy.

She let go of Magnus's arm, laughing joyously as she jumped up on a stone railing, dancing along it in a bizarre two-step.

"What are you doing?" he demanded, with a bemused grin. She twirled to face him, holding her arms out wide.

"It's a beautiful night. I'm a little bit drunk, I'm with a hot guy and the world is good right now!" she exclaimed, dancing away again. She revelled in the pure freedom of it all, relishing the cold against her face, the breeze in her hair, the ancient stone beneath her feet.

"You're crazy," he shook his head. "You're going to fall over in a minute!"

"That's what you here for, Sherlock. To catch me when I fall down!" she replied teasingly, twirling once more gracefully before jumping off. Unsurprisingly, Magnus caught her around the waist, pulling her down against him. She pouted at him "Spoilsport."

She stilled as his breath washed over her, smelling of peppermint and alcohol, drawing her in. He grinned predatorily, and pushed her against the railing, hemming her in his long, lean body. He frowned when he felt a hard object digging into his hip, glancing down.

"Darcy, is that a taser in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me?" he asked, teasingly, glancing back up at her with a taunting gleam in his eye. She really wanted to wipe that smirk off.

"Isn't that supposed to be _**my**_ line?" she asked, drifting one hand down his chest to the holster she'd glimpsed when he put his coat back on.

"So cliché," he chuckled. "Well, which is it, Darcy?"

Her grin turned impish. "Maybe it's both," she whispered against his lips, knowingly teasing him as he swallowed hard. He shifted against her, and she gasped at the feel of his arousal against her stomach, only slightly screened by the heavy fabric of her coat.

"Sexy, devious and dangerous," he purred. "My kind of crazy girl."

She mentally glared. So not fair.

"What did we say about cheesy pickup lines?" she asked cheekily. One of her hands slid down his back, beneath that super sexy black coat, and splayed her fingers over the hard curve of his bottom. He gasped and laughed.

With another teasing smile, Darcy escaped his slackened hold and danced away again, like a sprite, always staying just out of reach.

The walk back to her hotel ended too quickly for her liking.

He didn't seem like he was going to push to come up to her room. At the door of the hotel, he stopped and waited, with a soft smile so unlike the teasing, wicked ones she'd seen all evening.

"It was nice meeting you, Darcy. I'd like to see you again," he breathed. Darcy wondered how much of a tramp he'd think her if she asked him up.

"So would I," she replied, stepping close. His eyes widened, but he didn't move back. The smouldering was back again.

Thank God for high heels. Usually Darcy preferred Converses or boots, but it was a one off night out. And thank God she did…or Thor…or Odin, or whoever the hell was out there. She stretched up on her toes, and his arms came around her waist again, pulling her into him.

"Darcy…" he trailed off uncertainly.

"Magnus, I'm only here for another ten days," she explained quietly. "So much as the gentleman act is kinda sweet, I'm not going to think you're a sleaze if you come up to my hotel room."

Well, ok it would be sleazy, but the good kind of sleazy. Besides, it wasn't like it was just random sex with some random guy. They'd had a drink, they'd talked, they'd danced…it was basically a first date. And as for the wisdom of getting involved with someone with only ten days left in the same country…well, she couldn't get too attached, could she?

"You are trouble, Miss Lewis," Magnus sighed. She grinned.

"Yep. So…got any handcuffs on you?" she quipped, and he chuckled.

"Trouble with a capital 'T'," he replied, backing her against the wall of the hotel façade. Darcy gasped as the hard stone met her back, but the heat in Magnus's eyes was enough to distract from the discomfort. So he liked it rough, did he?

Two could play at that game.

She reached up and kissed him, sliding one hand into the luscious mane of curls to grip tightly, as she boldly thrust her tongue into his mouth, swallowing his surprised gasp. His lips were thin and warm against hers, and…

Damn, he knew how to kiss. Her toes curled in her shoes, as he regained dominance, teasing and taunting her with his tongue until she wanted to scream in frustration. His arms around her waist held her still, so she couldn't move against him. Her head spun, and she was pretty sure she was going to implode in the next five minutes.

He drew back, and she leant forward with him, trying to recapture the heat of his mouth, as he chuckled and held her back, which wasn't very far. He seemed about as eager to push her away as she was to let him. His forehead rested on hers, and their breath mingled as they panted for air.

"This is crazy," he whispered.

"Yeah. But sanity's overrated," she replied coyly, leaning up and just nipping his lower lip with her teeth. He sucked in a breath, and his hands tightened around her waist.

"Hotel room. Now," he hissed, and she smirked victoriously. Slipping out of his hold, she took his hand and guided him through the foyer, throwing the night receptionist a smirk as she watched the pair disapprovingly. Darcy just grinned more, as she felt Magnus's hand slip around her waist, pulling her into his side. The receptionist's face clouded with jealousy.

Yep, he's mine tonight, and you're just jealous you're not getting any. Probably not the most charitable thought, but with a glare like that, she deserved it.

* * *

The moment the lift closed on them, Darcy yelped as she was shoved against the wall opposite the control panel, her wrists trapped and held above her head in a fierce grip, as Magnus's lips bore down on hers. Freed from his hold on her waist, she writhed against him, as he kissed her aggressively, leaving her pretty sure she was going to have swollen lips in the morning.

He moaned quietly against her mouth, and she shifted her hips against his, feeling his arousal press into her stomach with a shiver of delight.

The lift _pinged_, and the doors opened. Darcy slipped her hands from his, and pushed him away with a teasing grin, escaping from that confined space and towards her hotel room. As she fumbled with the stupid key card, she felt his arms slide around her waist from behind, pulling her back against him, as his lips trailed down her neck. Biting her lip, her hand shook as she tried to unlock the door, his mouth and his body doing absolutely nothing to aid her concentration.

Finally, admitting defeat, she shoved the card into the lock and turned around his hold, pulling Magnus's mouth back to hers as he crowded her against the hard door.

One hand slipped from her waist, sliding down her thigh to the join of her knee, hauling it up and against his hip, so when he moved, they rocked against her core. Darcy was pretty glad there wasn't anyone around, otherwise they'd be getting one hell of a show.

The door suddenly opened behind her, and she would have fallen back except for Magnus's hold on her waist and knee. He lifted her, carrying her through the door and shoving her against the wall inside. She cried out as the door slammed shut, and having sensed they'd reached the privacy of her room, she finally, _**finally**_, shoved off that damn coat and suit jacket. With a growl, he dropped his arms so they fell from his broad shoulders and hit the floor. He manhandled her own coat from her, her purse hitting the ground with a quiet _thump_, and then his lips were back on hers, at last. Their teeth clashed together, before they adjusted and his tongue slid deep into her mouth, sending shudders of heat and lust down Darcy's rapidly melting spine.

She relished the blonde curls, like raw silk, tangling around her fingers, before slipping her free hand down his chest, feeling his pectorals, then his abdominal muscles tense under her touch. She slipped her fingers under the hem of his sweater, and he gasped under her touch. Emboldened, she slipped it down further, mouth watering at the heated skin and steely muscle that met her touch.

Without warning, he picked her up, slinging both legs around his waist. Damn, he was strong!

He carried her through to the main room. It wasn't much, just a sofa, TV, desk, lamp and bed, but he didn't seem to notice and Darcy really didn't care. The moment he slung her down on the bed, she pulled his sweater over his head, her nails grazing his back as he gasped and arched his spine. Throwing the unwanted garment away, Darcy did it again, intrigued and oddly thrilled when he shuddered and pressed his hips to hers.

The skirt of her dress was thrust up around her hips, and his fingers quickly found her soft, molten core, as if in retaliation for her teasing. She gasped and arched, hands tightening around the hard muscle of his upper arms, as he marked and kissed the long column of her throat with tongue and teeth.

She tugged the flimsy garment up and over her head, needing to feel him skin to skin. The feel of his fingers gliding against her silken folds was enough to make her cry out, before he slid one in deep, and she arched. His mouth toyed with her breast through the bra, as she buried one hand in his hair. She undid the clasp herself, and he pulled it away impatiently. His hips thrust against hers, the rough material of his jeans torturing her already over sensitised skin, as his lips grazed hers again.

She'd been floating in some kind of torturous heaven, as he teased and explored her body, until she felt his lips against her own. Looking up at him through the darkness, she returned his kiss.

"Do you have…?" he panted, and she nodded to the top drawer. He kissed her again, deep and searchingly, before pulling away. She was dimly aware of him removing the last of their clothes, then the rattle of the drawer, before his body was back on hers, bare and exquisitely hot.

"Next time, we'll do this properly," he growled against her lips, and she frowned slightly. This wasn't doing it properly…?

She wasn't sure she'd survive 'properly', then.

"Stop talking and just-!" she began to snarl, but then he thrust into her, and the words died on her lips. He filled and stretched her, surging deep into her as she clutched his shoulders.

She was really overusing this word but…_**damn**_.

She sought and found his lips, his kiss surprisingly gentle as his powerful body flexed and surged into hers. She begged him for more, to go faster, with every thrust, as she felt the pleasure building and building with every movement of Magnus's hips.

It had been too long. She didn't last long before she broke entirely, from their teasing throughout the evening and then their kisses and caresses before they even made her hotel room. She cried out, arching against him, and he held her tightly as she rode out the wave.

He followed quickly, head buried in the damp curls plastered against her neck, and he moaned her name as he stiffened and then relaxed. Dizzy in the aftermath, Darcy held him tightly against her, stroking his hair, tangled by her own hands, as they both fought for breath.

He slipped from her arms, with a kiss on her bruised lips, and she was dimly aware of the sounds of running water from her bathroom. She should really get up and wash, but she was far too lazy and boneless to do anything, feeling utterly ravished and at peace as she lounged on her bed. The bathroom door opened and closed, and he emerged, looking tousled and thoroughly messed up, with an adorably sheepish grin.

"You don't have to go, you know," she breathed, holding out a hand to him. "I'm not going to kick you out at 2 in the morning. Stay."

With a quirk of those gorgeous lips she'd spent the last few hours contemplating, he came back to her, pulling the covers back and slipping in, as she did the same, relaxing against him as his arms came around her.

She sighed, feeling utterly content, before closing her eyes.

* * *

When she awoke the next morning, the bed was empty but for a note on her pillow. She unfolded it and smiled, before rolling over onto her side. She didn't have to be up for another hour.

And she had his number.

Her thighs ached deliciously, and she lazily slipped back to sleep, as her mind relived every salacious, sensual image from the night before.

She really only had one word for it all. Damn.


	2. Chapter 2

Drowning

Disclaimer: I own nothing

Warnings: Explicit content, some mild language & descriptions of violence.

* * *

'_And I__'__d give up forever to touch you,_

_Cause I know that you feel me somehow._

_You__'__re the closest to heaven that I__'__ll ever be,_

_And I don__'__t want to go home right now.__'_

'_And all I can taste is this moment,_

_And all I can breathe is your life._

_Cause sooner or later, it__'__s over,_

_And I don__'__t want to miss you tonight.__'_

_**- **__**'**__**Iris**__**',**__** Goo Goo Dolls**_

* * *

Magnus was having a really bad day, and it had started out so well.

Waking up, as he always did at six now it had become an ingrained habit, with a soft, intensely warm feminine body against his ranked fairly highly on his most enjoyable mornings list. And for once, he had not dreamed of Ake, or Linda, or that whole bloody awful second before he pulled the trigger.

He had woken up, tired but still refreshed, as he had looked down on the curvaceous brunette lying curled up in his arms like a kitten.

Or a tigress, as he seemed to remember from last night. Even sitting at his office desk, surrounded by paperwork and Wallander yelling in his usual bad temper at intervals, the thought made him smile.

He hadn't gone to that nightclub to get laid. He just needed some distraction, some social interaction that didn't include police officers, for one night. To preserve his sanity and remind himself there was life and normality outside of Ystad Police Department.

Then she'd bumped into him. Darcy Lewis.

Small, dark-haired, buxom beauty bristling with indignation and fury because he had spilled her drink. He hadn't planned to sleep with her. He was attracted, hell the moment she turned around and glared at him, he thought of nothing more than kissing those luscious lips. Their dancing, and then her carefree slightly drunk antics on the walk back to her hotel had only intensified the feeling.

Then she'd said she was only in the country for ten days. After that, his worries hadn't seemed so important.

He hoped she called.

"Magnus! Magnus, I need a profile on Ingrid Strauss, and I need it now!" Kurt yelled from his office. The blonde-haired officer sighed heavily, before replying caustically.

"Try checking your inbox, Kurt!"

There was no answer.

Anne-Britt smiled commiseratively, as she handed him a file. "That's all the connections and employees," she explained, before pausing and eying him intently. "Magnus…"

"Yeah?" he asked, not looking up from the file as he flicked through it, taking a sip of coffee.

"Who's the lucky girl?"

Magnus almost spat out his coffee. He stared up at the petite brunette, wide-eyed, and gaping. She laughed, and gestured to his neck. "You might want to find a scarf."

"Oh my God," Magnus buried his head in his hands, but not before pulling the collar of his shirt up to hide what was obviously a very large love bite. Tigress indeed.

"So come on. Spill the details, although not too much," Anne-Britt smirked, her eyes dancing with mischief. Magnus sighed and sat back, revealing his slightly flushed cheeks, making her giggle even more.

"She's an American. Darcy Lewis. I met her last night in a club," he explained awkwardly. Anne-Britt nodded.

"You actually remembered her name. I'm impressed," she taunted him. He rolled his eyes.

"Not entirely beyond me, Anne-Britt," he replied sarcastically. "She's only here for a little while."

"You got her number?" the petite detective sat on his desk, face alight with interest. "Come on, Magnus! Give an old married woman something to chew on!"

Recovering from his embarrassment, Magnus chuckled and folded his arms. "Alright, alright. No, I don't have her number but she has mine. If she wants to see me again, it's up to her."

His phone _beeped_.

Anne-Britt smirked and hopped off his desk, winking conspiratorially at Magnus as he reached for the phone, eagerly flicking the keyboard lock off.

_Ummm, who is this? Pretty sure some sexy blonde dude snuck in and left me his number on my pillow last night. STALKER! ;). D_

He chuckled to himself.

_Did he? How frightening for you. Perhaps you need some reassurance after such a scary occurrence? M_

Her reply came quickly.

_Nope, don't think so. I'm a tough kinda girl. Never bite off more than I can chew, ;). D_

He shifted uncomfortably, reminded of the love bite Anne-Britt had glimpsed on his neck. Damn, he was at work! He couldn't afford to get aroused now.

Two could play at her game.

_Course not. But I think you only scratched the surface last night…M_

"Magnus!" Kurt called from his office. "Can you give me a hand? Computer's playing up."

Sighing, he left his phone and quickly strode across the office to Kurt's, sorting out the surly detective's problem, and returning to his own desk. When he sat down, a red light told him he had another message.

Two, as it turned out.

_Well, see Mr Sherlock, I can't really remember much of last night. Maybe you need to give me a few reminders? D_

_I'll be back in town in an hour. Want to meet up for some lunch? D_

A beaming smile broke on Magnus's face, and he quickly sent back a reply, and the address of a nice café he knew. As he put the phone back down on his desk, he smiled as he imagined picking up where they'd left off last night. He'd promised her they would do it properly next time.

This was one promise he'd be sure to keep.

The hour came and went, and Magnus finished up the last of his report, before grabbing his coat.

"Where are you going?" Kurt asked, looking up from his conversation with Lisa. "We've still got work to do."

"Not until after lunch," he replied easily, if firmly. "See you in an hour."

Lisa raised an eyebrow, but just smiled, as Magnus walked away, leaving Kurt with his jaw on the floor.

* * *

He sent her the address of a nice little café not far from the police station, and stopped by the men's bathroom to make sure his curly hair didn't look too wild. He glimpsed Anne-Britt at the front desk as he walked out, and she shot him a knowing grin as he fiddled with his shirt collar.

It was a sunny day in Ystad as he walked along the street, quickly striding across the road and dodging the traffic, hands in his jean pockets.

His phone buzzed in his pocket, and he sighed when he saw the caller ID. Kurt.

His thumb hovered over the keys, before he terminated the call with a grin. He'd probably get an earful when he got back to work, but it was worth it when he heard a wolf-whistle behind him.

He turned to see her there, brunette curls loose around her shoulders, sunglasses obscuring her eyes, watching him with a grin from a table by the

"Seen something you like?" he called, teasingly.

"The view's pretty spectacular," Darcy replied, with a coy grin, taking off her sunglasses. "So, detective, think you could give me a hand?"

Magnus pocketed his phone and took the seat opposite, as he realised her game. He smiled wolfishly, and felt triumphant when he saw her visibly shiver.

"What seems to be the problem, Miss Lewis?" he asked, mock-seriously. "Have there been more incidents of stalking again?"

"Yeah. This guy's been texting me, and asked me to meet up here. I'm kind of freaked out. So glad you're here, detective," Darcy grinned evilly, as Magnus rolled his eyes. "Wait….ohmigod! It was you! You've been stalking me!"

"The penny drops," he did his best impression of a villainous laugh, and she stared at him. "What?"

"Nothing, Sherlock. Just…" she muttered, looking down. Dropping his act, he leant forward and took her hand, feeling ridiculously bold. It was just holding her hand, for goodness' sake! "You sounded really sexy laughing like that."

Smiling like an idiot, Magnus turned away to let her regain her dignity, as the waitress came over. He easily slipped back into Swedish to order, and then looked questioningly at Darcy, who was staring at him open-mouthed again. Did he have something in his hair?

"Darcy? What would you like?" he asked, and she jumped a little.

"Oh! Sorry. Ummm, just a water and the meatballs please," she replied, looking away. He smiled and repeated her order in Swedish. "So, where did you learn English?"

"A little at school," he replied, as the waitress left. "My father was keen that I spoke English so I was tutored at home too."

"I feel so uneducated next to you, Mr. Bilingual!" she mumbled, smirking self-deprecatingly.

"Why would you? I'm just a humble police officer, and you're the next President of the US!" he replied, reaching for her hand again. She smiled, a little wider this time, and winked saucily.

"And don't you forget it!" she laughed, brightening, to Magnus' relief.

"Nice choice on the meatballs. They're a specialty down here in the South," he searched for another topic, as she played with her wineglass.

"I'm addicted," she admitted with a soft smile. "By the time I go home, I'll be the size of a house."

"You could be the size of the Empire State Building, and you'd still be beautiful," he retorted, eyes drifting all over her. In simple jeans, sneakers, and a soft blue shirt, she looked so fresh and pure, like the lakes she'd been visiting that morning. She snickered, a wicked cackle of a laugh, and he grinned. "So how's my chat up lines this time?"

"Awful," she replied, leaning back as the waitress brought their drinks. "So you got long, or is this just a quickie?"

Magnus nearly choked on his coffee, and sent her a swift, heated glare. Her words had him aroused in seconds.

"I've got forty-five minutes," he told her. "Speaking of which, I owe you for a little something…"

He gestured to his neck, and her eyes widened then sparkled devilishly. The waitress returned with their order, and she whipped out her napkin.

"I look forward to it," she whispered teasingly, before taking her first bite. His eyes lingered on her lips, then her neck, and he had to restrain himself from reaching for her across the table.

* * *

They strayed to safer topics of conversation, her visits to the lakes, his career, her degree and what she wanted to do after. They made plans to see each other again that night, as Magnus insisted on paying.

"Fine," Darcy rolled her eyes. "But I'm paying next time. Don't go giving me all that gentlemanly act all the time."

"Well, definitely not all the time," Magnus smiled suggestively, as his hand crept around her waist and trailed down over the curve of her bottom. The sudden intake of breath deepened his grin. "Where are you parked?"

"In the big car park five minutes from here," she pointed, and he nodded. "You don't need to walk me. I wouldn't want your crazy boss on my back if you're late."

They'd discussed Kurt after the third time he'd rung Magnus, and he had refused the call. Darcy had been unimpressed, and soundly confirmed what Magnus had always believed that he needed to loosen up a little and that he needed to get a life outside of the police force.

Oddly enough, he'd found himself defending the old man a little. He supposed it was difficult not to, after working with him so long.

"I've got another twenty minutes," he told her, twining her waist with his arm. "Come on. Wouldn't want your stalker finding you unawares."

"I can look after myself," she replied, and with the way she pressed against him, he could feel the outline of her taser in her coat pocket.

"Damn it, Darcy," he growled, as she laughed and pulled away. "You know you could get yourself into a lot of trouble with that, crazy girl."

"And that's why you like me," Darcy retorted in a singsong voice. "Because I'm trouble."

They'd reached the car park, fenced in by shady trees. He spotted her rental, a shiny silver Ford, and smiled. Wolfishly.

The CCTV cameras were not pointed at Darcy's car, and it was deserted, everyone at work or lunch. He had time.

He grabbed her round and whirled her back against the car door, making her gasp against his mouth as he pressed himself against her. "Yes, that must be it," he growled, before dipping his head. Seven hours without kissing her really was too long.

He kissed her hungrily, not giving her any room to resist him or fight back. He just kissed her hard and deep, claiming her mouth until she was writhing against him. He anchored her to him with one hand, moaning himself at the feel of her stomach cushioning his arousal, and snagged the keys from her hand, flicking the lock. He opened the door and pushed her inside, onto the back seat before following her quickly.

It was far too cramped, and his legs too long, but he compensated. He just wanted his revenge for last night anyway.

Trapped beneath him on the back car seat, she arched and gasped his name, forcing her head to the side and panting.

"We can't…can we?" she breathed, as his teeth worried her earlobe, and his hands opened up her shirt enough that he could run his mouth over the rise of her breasts.

"Oh yes," he replied, as he raised his head to kiss her again. Her hands buried themselves in his hair, ruffling the already unruly curls, raking her nails across his skull. It made his hips buck into her, and she arched, her hands going to his shirt, unfastening the buttons frantically. He grabbed her wrists and pinned them in one hand above her hand. "Oh, no you don't. I have payback for last night," he growled, as she moaned and twisted in his grip.

He bent his head back to her neck, lavishing the soft, alabaster column in kisses, before laving her pulse with his tongue. Simultaneously, his free hand caressed down her torso, as she arched up into his palm, and down, turning on the flat expanse of her stomach to slide beneath the waistband of her jeans.

Darcy moaned his name when he slid his fingers over her, teasing her mercilessly until she was incoherent with need, before giving her what she wanted.

He entered her with one finger, holding her hips down with his own so she had no choice but to surrender to him, as he stroked inside of her, watching her eyes as the dark mahogany and chestnut shades of her eyes crystallised and fractured with desire, her pupils so large her eyes were almost black. Her lips, swollen and red, called to him and he allowed himself one last kiss, as she cried out and shuddered beneath him.

He added another finger and curled them just so, making her cry out his name, and quickly ducked his head to her neck, biting down on her pulse as she let herself go, arching against his hold, his fingers trapped in her heat as it tightened and rippled with her release.

Gradually she calmed and went limp beneath him, as he removed his fingers and released her wrists. With a wicked smile, taking in her blissful expression and relaxed body, he bent his head and kissed her heatedly.

"Until tonight," he whispered against her lips, before backing out of the car and escaping. He looked back over his shoulder to see Darcy staring after him.

He raised his hand and smirked cockily, and her eyes narrowed in a glare. Her mouth formed one word. "Payback."

He couldn't wait.

He was five minutes late, and despite the glare Kurt sent his way, he couldn't care less. His day had just got a whole lot better.


End file.
